


nice dick

by buckybarfs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, don't take the title at face value there's no smut, have fun! idc!, i dont accept infinity war and endgame as canon so, i still live in that 'everyone has their own apartment in the tower' fantasy land so theres that, i wrote this before infinity war came out so do with that what you will, it's soft it's funny its crack!, its just richard nixon, short n sweet or whatever, this probably isn't civil war compliant either, you meet steve while doing laundry thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 10:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybarfs/pseuds/buckybarfs
Summary: you meet steve rogers while doing laundry, unluckily for both of you neither of you know how to interact like normal human beings.





	nice dick

**Author's Note:**

> what up i don't care about canon

Doing laundry was your least favorite thing in the world. You hated every aspect of it. It seemed that doing laundry took up too much time in your life.  The time it took to sort the clothes by colors, the time it took to put your delicates in the stupid little laundry bag, the time it took to scrounge up enough quarters to go to the laundromat .

 

_ "Laundry is tedious and the worst." _ You'd grumble as you puttered around your house on the phone with your mom. You didn't care how petulant it made you sound. Every time your mom called she'd poke fun at you and remind you to do your laundry.

 

The only reason you were here today was because she'd called you and reminded you to do your laundry. As if you weren't a functioning adult who could remember to do their own laundry.  After putting on your last clean pair of underwear you realized,  maybe you weren't a functioning adult who could remember to do their own laundry .

 

You hated having to wear the musty last clean items of clothing that were only clean because you never liked them enough to wear them in the first place .  Holey leggings and random t-shirts you’d gotten as gag gifts were standard laundromat attire .

 

“I like your Dick.” You said to the muscular dirty blonde standing in front of you.

 

He almost dropped his laundry basket in surprise as he whipped his head around to look at you. He was cute, very lumberjack like with his thick beard and hair that fell into his eyes.

 

“Your shirt.” You clarified, now realizing that telling a stranger you liked his dick was not the best course of action. You  awkwardly shifted your laundry basket from hip to the other as he processed what you said.

 

He glanced down at his shirt, confusion written on his features. His shirt was a soft blue with a picture of Richard Nixon  smugly smiling on it, below his face in a simple font was ‘Dick.’

 

Richard Nixon hands down had the BEST merch when he ran for president. While you weren't alive for it you'd found an old 'You Can't Lick Our Dick!' pin at a thrift store and  been obsessed ever since.

 

“Oh,” Dick-guy said, letting out a nervous laugh. “It was the only clean shirt.”

 

You snorted and shook your head. “Yeah,  I feel you there, bud.”  You gestured to your own shirt before sitting your basket on the nearest available machine .

 

He tilted his head and gave you a shy smile.  “Well, I like your-” He  abruptly cut himself off as he finished looking over your shirt and realized where this was going . “Breasts.” He finished, sounding horrified that the phrase had come out of his mouth.

 

You beamed at him, delighted at the soft blush that crept over his rugged features.  You’d gotten the shirt from a friend as a White Elephant gift last Christmas, it was a simple white cotton shirt with boobs drawn on it . You'd have to remember to text your friend a million thank yous.

 

“You should at least by a gal dinner first.” You said with a wink. You turned to your machine and put your quarters in before shutting the lid to let it fill up a bit.

 

“To be fair, you complimented my dick first.” Dick-guy quipped as he set his basket down on his machine.

 

You scoffed as you lifted the lid to pour your laundry detergent in. “Not my fault you walk around flaunting your dick like that.” You pouted and gave him a disapproving shake of your head as you began dropping your darks into the washer.

 

His calloused hands fumbled as he tried to put the quarters in, he was  clearly flustered. The way you were affecting this handsome stranger made you feel warm inside.

 

“I don’t even know your name.” He said shaking his head as he admired you.

 

“I’ve been referring to you as ‘Dick-Guy’ in my head for the past few minutes.” You admitted with a shrug.

 

He laughed, holding his side. Which, gave you an incredible view of the tight muscles of your arms. The world melted away as his rich laughter echoed through the laundromat.

 

“What’s your name, ‘Breast-Girl?’” He asked as he stuffed his massive collection of grey-blue workout shirts in his machine .

 

Who? Oh, right, you were Breast-Girl. You'd been so caught up in admiring his beauty that you forgot where you were and who you were.

 

“While ‘Breast-Girl’ would be the coolest superhero name ever it’s  sadly not my name.” You shut your machine and turned back to him, sticking your hand out and introducing yourself.

 

“Your turn. Unless you prefer ‘Dick-Guy.’” You raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

 

He grinned and stuck his hand in yours. “Steve, Steve Rogers.”

 

After a lapse of silence he spoke up again. “I’d like to buy you dinner.” He blurted out, looking at you through his lashes.

 

“I’d like that.” You said with a sweet smile.  You pulled your phone out of the inner pocket of your leggings, opening it up to a blank contact before handing it to him .

 

Steve pulled a small black flip phone out of his pocket, flicking it open as he handed it to you.

 

Both of you took a minute to fill out your contact information before switching phones. Laughter escaped both of you as you looked over the information. He’d put his name in your phone as  _ ‘Steve Dick-Guy’  _ and you’d put yours in as your name  _ ‘Breast-Girl.’ _

 

Suddenly you didn’t mind laundry days anymore.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> i like feedback so much i eat it


End file.
